Beach Colors (34 page)

Margaux stepped into the sewing room. The ladies were all busy, Adelaide hovering over them, more like a mother hen than a factory boss. They each looked up just long enough to nod and went back to work.

Adelaide motioned her back into the hallway.

“Things seem to be going well,” Margaux said.

“Yes. I’d like to get most of the pieces ready to begin the finishing by the Fourth.”

The Fourth of July
. It was only a week away, Margaux realized. Time was galloping forward.

“Excellent. Then we need to discuss whether we can build enough to display one in each size for the showroom, then maybe augment what we have with a few additional pieces. Take a look at these.” She handed Adelaide her recent sketches.

Adelaide perused each sketch. “I think there are enough large scraps of blue to turn into camisoles. And maybe some of the white silk.”

“Good. I was thinking raw silk for those capris. Upscale but still comfortable and beachy.” She pointed to the rendering. “A seamed pleat down the front and a set of diagonal darts from below the knee to above the ankle. Piecemeal something for a few sarongs. I’ll make another run to Hartford for fabric, if you think we can do it.”

“Of course we can.”

Her cell rang. “Hi, it’s Bri. Just wanted to let you know that I haven’t been able to get any professionals, the notice is too short. But I did get a commitment from Annalise Ghi to send me four of her top students. For free. If they can use you as a reference. I told them fine. I hope that was okay.”

“Absolutely.”

“I told her we didn’t want anorexic angst. She promised to work them like the devil and send them three days early so I can finesse them. Don’t worry about room and board. They can stay at my house, God knows I’ve got the room.”

“Have you thought any more about—”

“If you put me in a pantsuit, I’ll emcee. But I won’t walk. That’s my best offer.”

“It’s the best offer I’ve had in years.”

“That’s sad. If you’re going to try to open the boutique in conjunction with the show, you’d better start looking for a manager now.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. You amaze me,” Margaux told her. “Where did you get all this business acumen?”

“I told you, I went to college. I’m not bad at it, either.”

“In that case, would
you
like that job?” Margaux asked, only half joking.

“It might look good on my résumé. I’ll let you know.”

“Accepted. You and Grace are invited to the beach for the Fourth.”

“You’re taking the day off?”

“Under duress. Jude said I might get away without going to Mass, but no way was I going to miss the fireworks.”

“I like the way she thinks. We’ll be there.”

“Great. And Bri, thanks. I mean it.”

“No walking.”

“It’s a deal.” Bri hung up and Margaux began designing an outfit to end all outfits for her new emcee.

T
he Fourth came all too soon. The alarm woke Margaux at five. She slapped it off and was drifting back to sleep when she felt the bed dip beside her.

“Do you have to go?”

“Double shift. It’s a holiday, remember?” Nick bent down and nibbled her neck.

She slipped her arms around his neck. “You shouldn’t have done that, Chief. Now you’ll have to pay before you go.”

“I have to be out of here in twenty minutes and I need to shower.”

“No problem.” She heaved out of bed. “I’ll wash your back.”

The shower took seventeen minutes. “See, time to spare,” Margaux said as she watched Nick shave, but you’ll have to get coffee from Dottie, I don’t have time to cook.”

“That’s okay, I don’t love you for your culinary skills.” His hand stopped as he realized what he’d said. Margaux recovered first. “It’s a good thing. I could sew you a shaving sarong, but it would be a shame to cover up those assets.”

“Enough,” he said, washing off the disposable razor and giving her a quick kiss. “See you at midnight. With any luck.”

“The bewitching hour. I’ll be waiting.” She followed him downstairs and smiled until he drove away, then she dropped into a kitchen chair. Surely, that had been just an expression. He didn’t love her, did he? Of course not, it was much too soon. He’d just been kidding her about her lack of interest in cooking.

And it was too early for her to even think about anything permanent. The ink had barely dried on her divorce decree. And she had a career to revitalize.

She’d meant to sleep in since the workshop was closed for the holiday, but she knew that was out of the question now. She made coffee and watched the sunrise. When the first family arrived at the beach, she went back to bed.

She awoke to noises from outside. She put on her new swimsuit and went downstairs. Roger and Jude had set out beach chairs and umbrellas to claim their spot on the beach just like the dozens of other families who lived in the community.

Bri and Grace arrived a few minutes later.

“Hallelujah, you got a new suit,” Bri said. “I wonder who—I mean what—inspired that?”

Margaux threw a towel at her.

Mrs. Prescott dropped off Connor before lunch. She was spending the day with some of her friends in town, but promised to keep her cell phone nearby in case they needed her. Margaux assured her they would be fine and hoped she wasn’t being too optimistic.

She saw a patrol car pass by and she ran to the back door, but it was only Finley. He gave her a thumbs-up and continued down the street.

The beach was swarming with kids and Margaux hoped it wouldn’t be too much for Connor. At first he stayed on the porch watching the other kids playing. He was fascinated by a group of boys who were running with sparklers, but he didn’t seem inclined to join them, thank God.

Finally Margaux retrieved the crab pail and a plastic shovel she’d unearthed in the shed and took Connor to play in the sand. She eased him to a place about six feet away from two children who seemed about his age and who were filling their pails with sand and dumping them out. The boy had a big plastic dump truck.

Margaux sat down on the sand, handed Connor the shovel, and began dropping handfuls of moist sand in the pail. When it was full, Margaux turned it over and patted the bottom. She lifted the pail up, leaving a tower of sand. Soon she and Connor were surrounded by pail-shaped mountains.

The two nearby children wandered over and sat down. The little boy and Connor began filling the dump truck while the girl scooped out tunnels in the mounds Margaux had made.

Feeling she’d made big headway, Margaux slipped away to the porch where she could see all three children.

“Is it too early for one of those drinks with a paper umbrella in it?”

“How about some lemonade,” Jude said. “Afraid we don’t have any umbrellas.”

“Sounds good. How did you manage day after day with us on the beach? I’m afraid to take my eyes off Connor. He might feel shy, get scared, wander off. It’s exhausting.”

“You seem to be enjoying it.”

Margaux nodded. She was enjoying it, but a part of her felt it should be her and Danny’s children out there, Jude’s grandchildren instead of a little boy she’d only known for a few months.

Jude squeezed her shoulder. “He’s a sweet boy.”

“Yeah, he is.”

The two kids left and Connor came back to the porch. His nose looked pink. Margaux slathered more sunscreen on him and made him put on his T-shirt and hat. He had lunch—hot dog, chips, and an orange soda—sitting on the steps in the shade of the porch overhang.

After lunch the two kids from the morning came over to see if Connor could play. Jude promised to watch him while Margaux, Bri, and Grace went to the kitchen to whip up a batch of watermelon martinis.

Margaux was standing at the kitchen sink when she caught a glimpse of a patrol car moving slowly down the street. It might be Finley again, but—

“Back in a sec,” she said, and ran out the back door.

Nick slowed the cruiser to a stop.

“Hi.” She leaned in the open window. “Are you allowed a little fun while you’re on duty?”

“A very little.”

She kissed him and moved away.

Nick groaned. “You are such a tease.”

“You said a little fun.”

“Then you shouldn’t be wearing that suit.”

Margaux looked down. She’d forgotten she was wearing her new bikini. Aqua and gold and tiny. “It’s new. At least I’m not wearing the one with the ruffles and strawberries.”

“True. I’ve got to go. Think you can keep that on until about midnight?”

“I’ll try.”

“Is Connor here?”

“Yes, and he’s been playing with two other kids all day.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

He reached out the window and pulled her over, claiming a longer kiss that left her breathless.

“You better hope you don’t get reported for enjoying your job too much.”

“You’re right. Don’t forget me. I’ll be back.” He drove off.

Smiling, Margaux turned to find Bri and Grace, noses to the kitchen window. They disappeared in a flash.

They were waiting with martinis. Bri handed her one. “Now that was definitely an inspiration.”

Adelaide picked Connor up at four. He had to be bribed with ice cream to get him off the beach. Margaux walked them to the car. When Margaux buckled his seat belt, Connor pressed sticky hands to her cheeks. “I love you.”

Margaux smiled. “I love you too, sweetie.”

Bri and Grace left around six, Bri to feed her animals and Grace to meet friends at the public beach and boardwalk for the fireworks.

Roger and Jude left soon after. “We’re going to watch the fireworks from the comfort of my balcony. You’re sure you don’t want to come?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll just take a shower and a nap.”

“Busy day. You’ve done wonders for that child. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” She walked them to the door. Jude kissed her goodbye, and to her surprise so did Roger.

Margaux showered and changed—leaving the bikini out in case she needed it again—and went to watch the fireworks from the porch steps. She could have gotten the full effect by walking to the jetty or even sitting on the sand. But both were dotted by couples or groups of friends or families, and though Margaux didn’t feel alone, she didn’t feel like joining in.

The first spray of fireworks had just lit the night sky when she was startled by Nick, changed into jeans, walking across the porch and sitting down beside her.

“Charlie Briggs needed the overtime, so I let him have the rest of my shift.” He unclipped his pager and set it on the step. “I’m on call.”

Another boom reverberated in the air, followed by silver medallions that exploded into pink and green. Margaux barely noticed, because Nick had pulled her close and was kissing her like she couldn’t remember being kissed before. And she didn’t want to remember any kisses before Nick.

She wasn’t aware that the fireworks were ending until the last barrage of explosions lit the whole sky.

“I hope Jude’s watching the fireworks,” said Margaux against Nick’s mouth.

“Why?”

“She usually has her binoculars trained down here.”

“I say we go inside.”

“Good idea.”

Twenty-four

W
hat we have here,” Linda said, gesturing to the bare walls of
Margaux
, “is a freaking empty dress shop.”

“Boutique,” Margaux, Bri, and Grace said in unison.

Linda grinned. “I don’t see no
boo-teek
anywhere. Just some dust bunnies and a secondhand armoire.”

“She’s right,” Margaux said. “I’ve been so focused on the show that I let the
Margaux
opening slide.”

“Maybe you could postpone the opening until after the show and decorate then,” Grace suggested.

“Product. We’re talking about product here.” Linda walked away from them, turned back abruptly, and threw her hands wide. “They see product, they want to buy it. They don’t want to see product, make a memo in their BlackBerry to go buy it in a couple of weeks, maybe three, if they’re still in town whenever we get around to opening this joint. Uh-uh. That’s not the way it works.”

“Thank you.” Bri high-fived her. “At least two of us know what’s what.”

Margaux threw the legal pad she’d been making notes on at her. “I get the point.” She looked around. “We could use the garment racks I got at the flea market in a pinch.”

Linda groaned. “The Baptists didn’t even want them. Anyway, we need them upstairs. Try again.”

“You’re right. I should have ordered fixtures, but hey, I’m new at this.”

“It’s too late to order things,” Bri said, looking around. “Besides, maybe you’ll be better off without the standard accoutrement.”

“You mean untraditional displays?” Margaux said. “I’ve been thinking of that myself.”

“So how can we help?” Grace asked.

They discussed it over lunch while Margaux made lists and handed them out. “Let’s see how far we get with these and meet back here at six.”

“Better make it eight,” Bri said.

It was almost nine before everyone returned. Nick and Margaux were unpacking baskets she picked up at several import stores. They were surrounded by a dozen more shopping bags and an assortment of distressed bookcases they’d found in a local “antique” furniture store.

“How about these?” Linda asked as she wrestled two metal baker’s racks through the door. Nick relieved her of both of them and placed them in the center of the floor.

“I got the white ones ’cause I thought they would fit in with the atmosphere better than the shiny ones, but they’ll exchange them.”

“No, these are perfect,” Margaux said.

“Good. ’Cause there are two more in my car. Come on, Chief, Harlan is working tonight.” Nick followed her outside.

“She’s amazing,” Bri said.

“She is that,” Margaux agreed.

Grace came in a few minutes later carrying two large boxes. “Sorry I’m late but I got stuck in traffic.”

“Traffic? I thought you were going to the party store to get tissue paper and mesh bags.”

“I did. Here’s the paper and the bags, I got large and small ones.” She slid the top box on the floor next to Margaux. “Then I got to thinking.” She put the other box down and opened it.